Insomnia
by Sailor Grape
Summary: What's the cure for insomnia? Spending time with your rival, of course! When Harry finds out that Draco can't sleep, he recruits himself to help. Can he also be helped in the process? HPDM
1. Problems and FaceOffs

Title: Insomnia  
  
Author: GrapeSmshr  
  
Rated: PG-13 and will probly stay that way  
  
Coupling: HP/DM *slash* If this offends you, then why the hell did you click on the link to the fic?  
  
Summary: What's the cure for insomnia? Spending time with your rival, of course! When Harry finds out that Draco can't sleep, he recruits himself to help.  
Why, oh why, do I start another fic when I have at least a good half dozen unfinished still? Because I'm obsessive, I suppose. This is actually my first HP fic, so if it sounds kinda funny, that'd be why. I'm probly gonna be updating every week, maybe a little sooner, since next week is spring break and I'll be bored out of my mind. Anyway, please read on and enjoy!  
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Insomnia  
Chapter 1: Problems and Face-Offs  
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Night.  
  
It was the best time in every twenty-four hour period, in his opinion. There was just  
something about the way the darkness fell so swiftly over Hogwarts, engulfing the  
castle like a second skin. It was the only time he truly appreciate the school.  
  
But night, as he soon discovered, had taken a turn on him, and not for the better.   
There was no great turning event that could justify his situation. At least, not that he  
was aware of. It just happened a few weeks ago, all of a sudden.  
  
He had insomnia.  
  
It had been twenty days since he'd last left the conscious world. He was keeping  
track of the hours, minutes, and sometimes even the excruciatingly long seconds that  
had ticked by without so much as a hint of drowsiness. And, quite honestly, it was  
driving him insane! He had tried multiple solutions to rid himself of this problem: herbs,  
potions, even old remedies he had gotten from a Muggle book. He had tried everything  
save knocking himself unconscious with a blunt object, which he was now half  
considering.  
  
The sad part was, he was getting used to not sleeping. After the first couple of  
days, he had conjured up a potion that would revitalize his energy when taken twice a  
day. Then he had found a spell to cover up the physical signs of his tiredom. If he  
couldn't actually sleep, he was at least going to keep up the appearance that  
everything was normal.  
  
Sighing in frustration, he pushed an unruly strand of white-blonde hair behind one  
pale ear. He sank onto his bed, the forest green blanket offering him no comfort even in  
the daytime. Luckily for him, the rest of his House happened to be out somewhere, so  
he had the entire dorm to himself. He collapsed back against his pillow, allowing the  
tiredom to wash over him. Even with the potions, it was becoming increasingly difficult  
for him to perform certain tasks. Quidditch practice took a heavy toll on him five nights  
a week. Between that and studying, he felt like a walking corpse most of the time. At  
least he had times like these to himself.  
  
"Draco!" a sickeningly sweet voice reached his ears from the common room. He  
groaned. So much for his quiet time.  
  
"There you are!" Pansy Parkinson's head peered in from the hallway. "Honestly,  
Draco Malfoy, you'd think you were avoiding us!" She had invited herself into the sixth  
-year boys' dorm and stood next to Draco's bed, frowning down at the now smirking boy.  
  
Apparently taking his accustomed smirk in stride, Pansy rushed on. "Lunch is  
about to start. Let's go!" Grabbing his hand, she tugged him off the bed and over to  
the stairs.  
  
Draco yanked his hand away, startling Pansy. "I'll be there in a minute." Waiting  
until she disappeared back into the common room, he turned to a locked trunk at the  
foot of his bed. After reciting a few complicated spells, the trunk popped open. He  
pulled out a small vial filled with hazy gray potion. "Bottom's up," he muttered before  
downing the liquid in one swallow.  
  
Now that that was taken care of, he could make his way to the Great Hall. Draco  
took his time walking to lunch. He wasn't exactly in the mood to be around people.   
Then again, he never was the social butterfly, so at least his brooding wouldn't be  
questioned.  
  
He rounded a corner and smacked straight into someone. With an undignified  
grunt, he stumbled back but caught himself quickly. The other person wasn't as  
fortunate. Draco looked down into the irritated face of Hermione Granger.  
  
"Next time, give warning when you come barreling around corners!" Hermione  
clipped as she scrambled to her feet. She held her breath, waiting for a comeback.  
  
Draco only stared at her blankly before moving past her and into the doors leading  
to the Great Hall.  
  
Hermione gaped openly at the empty hallway. What had just happened? Malfoy  
had the perfect opportunity to insult her, and he passed? Something was definitely  
wrong. She hurried into the Great Hall and over to the Gryffindor table, squeezing in  
next to Ron Weasley. She looked at both him and Harry Potter, who sat across the  
table. "Something is not right," she told them in a low voice.  
  
"Again? It's only lunch!" Ron threw down a forkful of potatoes and made a face.   
"Honestly, Hermione, can't you discover evil at a time where meals aren't served?"  
  
"It's not evil," she correctly defensively, then thought about her words for a moment.   
"At least, not completely evil. I'm talking about Malfoy."  
  
Ron snorted. "Malfoy, that git? When did you start considering him as less than  
completely evil?"  
  
"Since a few minutes ago. He wasn't himself. Seriously, I think something might  
be wrong with him."  
  
Harry turned curiously to the Slytherin table, his eyes falling on the object of their  
conversation. Malfoy was smirking at an argument that had broken out between his  
two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. He looked the same as he always did. Turning back  
to Hermione, Harry asked her gently, "Are you sure you're not just stressed out over  
your classes?"  
  
Biting her lower lip, Hermione glanced at Malfoy. "I suppose so..." she replied  
uncertainly.  
  
"Well, now that we got that out of the way, can we return to an interesting topic?"  
Ron interrupted as he once again began shoveling food into his mouth.  
  
The three finished lunch, then decided to split up. Harry wanted to do more  
research for his Charms paper, while Ron asked Hermione for her help with his Potions  
homework.  
  
Gathering up his supplies, Harry made his way over to the library. The dimly lit  
room was mostly empty, as most students had better things to do than study on a  
Saturday afternoon. Oh, how Harry wished he were one of them! Choosing a table in  
the back, he sat down with his books and parchment arranged neatly in front of him.   
But did he feel like working? Not really. Instead he opted to see who else was in the  
library.  
  
Across the room sat a table of first-year Hufflepuffs. They kept giggling and were  
being glared at by Madam Pince, which would quiet them down. Then they would start  
giggling all over again. Harry shook his head, thrilled that the librarian's glare wasn't  
aimed in his direction for once. He turned his attention to the person sitting two tables  
to his left. It was none other than Malfoy, which surprised Harry to no end. Malfoy  
wasn't known to spend copious amounts of time in the library, especially on a  
weekend.  
  
As if just realizing that fact himself, the blonde Slytherin quickly slid out of his seat  
and bolted from the library, leaving two books on the now abandoned table. Trying to  
act casual, Harry slowly approached the table and picked up both books. One of them  
was a book of energy potions. The other was--"Sleeping draughts?" Just what was  
Malfoy playing at?  
  
Harry quickly set the books back down. He hurried over to his own table and  
grabbed his books, hightailing it out of the library. Whatever Malfoy was up to, it  
probably wasn't good. Harry needed to find Hermione, and fast.  
  
As his friend had done only hours before, Harry made a sharp turn and ran into  
someone, both of them tumbling to the ground. Straightening his glasses, Harry  
jumped up quickly. He met the sneering gaze of Draco Malfoy.  
  
"I knew you were clumsy, Potter, but it looks like your glasses could use a new  
prescription also," Draco shot out in annoyance. He was now on his feet, dusting an  
imaginary speck of dust off the sleeve of this robes. His eyes never left Harry's.  
  
"Malfoy, you're such an insolent prat," Harry muttered.  
  
"Now, now, no need to resort to insults." Draco watched in amusement as Harry's  
face turned various shades of red.  
  
Forcing his anger back down, Harry remembered his original purpose for leaving the  
library in such a hurry. Perhaps it was a good thing he ran into Malfoy. "Say, Malfoy,  
planning on killing someone anytime soon?" Harry asked just as casually as he would  
have asked for the time.  
  
"What the hell kind of question is that? Are you volunteering?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "I saw the books you were looking at in the library. Energy  
potions, sleeping draughts..."  
  
Oh, this boy really was too much. "Just what are you implying, Potter?" Draco  
stepped up to Harry so that they were almost nose to nose. His eyes flashed  
dangerously, daring the other boy to continue.  
  
Harry stood stubbornly, not breaking eye contact with the blonde. He refused to  
back down.  
  
To his surprise, Draco stepped away first. "I don't have time for this," he said airily,  
turning and strutting down the hallway as if nothing had happened.  
  
The young Gryffindor stood staring at the retrea form of his childhood enemy.   
He was utterly and completely baffled. Malfoy never backed down. Never. It quickly  
made him wonder if Hermione was correct when she said that something was wrong  
with Malfoy.  
  
Quickly setting off for the common room, Harry replayed the conversation in his  
head. Interestingly, Malfoy never denied that he had been up to something. Then  
again, he never was one to admit anything, so Harry wasn't all that surprised. For  
some reason, his mind kept falling back on the other boy's eyes. The silver orbs were  
practically burning when Harry had insulted him. But when he had looked closer, Harry  
saw that they weren't as bright as usual. In fact, he looked almost ... exhausted.  
  
Upon reaching the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry muttered the password and  
entered the large room, only to find it empty. That was strange. This was always  
where Hermione would help Ron with his homework. He rushed up the stairs and into  
the sixth-year boys' dorm room, which was also empty. Where had they disappeared  
to?  
  
Well, Harry had better things to do than wait around for his friends to turn up.   
These better things included... Quidditch. The next best thing to being with his  
friends, Quidditch was what Harry lived for. He was born to fly, and knew so the first  
time he had sat on a broomstick.  
  
He took his job as Gryffindor seeker very seriously, practicing every chance he got.   
And this was the perfect time to do so. The walk down to the Quidditch pitch took no  
time at all, and soon Harry was taking out his prized Firebolt from the broomshed,  
along with the trunk containing the four infamous Quidditch balls.  
  
Throwing one leg over his broomstick, Harry released the golden snitch and  
watched it disappear in a flash of glitter. And then he was off, rising higher and higher  
into the vast expanse of sky. His eyes lazily scanned the air for any sign of the snitch,  
but he had to admit that his heart was more in the flying than the searching today.   
There was nothing like flying, especially if he was the only one on the pitch.  
  
Except that he wasn't. Harry's heightened senses allowed him to feel the other  
person's presence before actually seeing him. Then he spotted a shock of platinum  
hair and unmistakably recognized his rival. Slowing down, Harry guided his Firebolt  
lower and lower until he had finally landed in front of the other teen. "Decided you need  
some pointers, Malfoy?"  
  
Draco's lips curled into what would have been a smile, had his eyes not been  
narrowed. "The only thing 'pointed' around here is your head, Potter," he shot back  
automatically.  
  
"Touché." Harry didn't know why, but for the last year, he had actually started to  
enjoy arguing with Malfoy. He found that a sarcastic streak was buried within himself  
and had been brought to the surface. It was a remarkable thing, really. So now,  
whenever he was around Malfoy, he couldn't help but make a biting remark or show him  
up. Hmm, now that wasn't a bad idea... "Hey, Malfoy, what would you say to some  
friendly competition?"  
  
Now Draco was regarding Harry with suspicion, but he wouldn't say that he wasn't  
intrigued. And he never was one to turn down a challenge. "What did you have in  
mind?" he asked, taking a step closer to Harry.  
  
"A simple game of Catch the Snitch." Harry raised his hand, gesturing to the sky.   
"I already released the snitch." He watched the other boy's face as he contemplated  
whether or not he would accept, but Harry already knew what the answer would be.  
  
"You're on, Potter."  
  
A few minutes later, both boys were mounted over their respective Firebolts. They  
were staring each other down, neither looking away. This was the way they always  
looked before a competition, sizing up the other opponent, confident in their own  
victory.  
  
"Here are the rules," Harry ticked them off on his fingers. "Number one: there are  
no rules. Catch the snitch and you win. Now, on my mark... Go!" And both boys  
rose into the air with practiced skill, traveling at an alarmingly fast rate.  
  
Once again, Harry let the euphoric rush of flying temporarily distract him from the  
task at hand. He was once again alone on the pitch, soaring higher and higher until his  
head was swirling with dizzy colors. It was only when his eyes happened to focus on  
another diving figure that snapped him out of his momentary reverie. Damnit! Malfoy  
had spotted the snitch!  
  
Plummeting faster than he ever had in his entire career as seeker, Harry quickly  
caught up with the Slytherin. The snitch was zooming across the pitch, and they were  
in fast pursuit. Blurs resembling the faint outlines of objects whirred past them as all  
they focused on was gold, pure gold.  
  
As the snitch made a sudden turn to the left, Harry expertly followed. He could feel  
Draco beside him, fast approaching until they were side by side, close enough to feel  
the wind rushing around the other. With a new determination, Harry leaned forward and  
stretched out his left hand as far as it would possibly go. His fingers just barely  
brushed the cool gold. Almost there, just a bit further...  
  
As if it knew its apparent value and wanted to play hard to get, the snitch pulled  
upward and flew over their heads and out of sight once again. With a string of curses,  
Harry turned around and began to search the sky for any sign of gold.  
  
"Quite a shame, Potter. You almost had it there," Draco called out with a derisive  
laugh as he zoomed off across the pitch.  
  
Scowling, Harry rose into the sky for a better vantage over the pitch. Both seekers  
kept to their respective ends of the pitch, every once in a while catching the other's eye  
and exchanging cutting remarks while scanning the wide blue expanse.  
  
After about fifteen minutes, a tiny object came whirring out of the stands. Catching  
sight of the snitch, both Harry and Draco raced toward the golden object that was  
fluttering about carelessly.  
  
Leaning further and further into his broom, Harry knew that victory would be his.   
Malfoy was too far away to beat him to the snitch. Now all he had to do was catch the  
blasted thing... As he approached the snitch, the tiny golden ball attempted to dart out  
of Harry's path, but it just wasn't quick enough. Harry was speeding forward, hand  
outstretched.  
  
And then his fingers enclosed around the golden object, ceasing its fluttering.   
Harry descended to the ground, followed closely by Draco. Once the snitch was  
carefully placed back in the trunk with the other Quidditch balls, and everything was  
placed in the broomshed, the boys faced each other. Both were panting from exertion.  
  
Draco stepped forward, breath coming in short gasps. "Good..." But the rest of  
his words died on his lips as he collapsed face forward into the hard ground.  
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Come on, everyone say it with me... "Aww, poor Draco..." So how was that for a first chapter? It was actually longer than most of my usual chapters, but I tried to keep things interesting. Anyway, please review! The more reviews, the happier the author. The happier the author, the faster she posts. The faster she posts, the happier the reviewers. The happier the reviewers, the more they review. See? It's like the circle of life here. Review if you want to survive! 


	2. Electric Shocks and Explanations

Wow, thanks for the wonderful reviews! You can tell I'm happy because I almost *never* update this quickly. I'm so happy this fic got a good response to the first chapter. If it didn't... Well, I'd still be writing, but this just motivates me all the more! I'm writing this fic like wildfire, and I'm almost finished with another chapter, so I might have that up by the weekend. ::crosses fingers:: Anyway, I just skimmed over this chapter for basic errors, so if there's a type, please ignore it! Thanks, and read on!  
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Insomnia  
Chapter 2: Electric Shocks and Explanations  
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"Malfoy! Malfoy..."  
  
Draco groaned. His head hurt. And why the hell was this person yelling at him?   
He wanted to sleep.  
  
At the subconscious words, his eyes flew open, landing on startlingly bright green.   
Was he dead? Was it a curse?  
  
"Malfoy, you're all right," Harry sat back on his heels, breathing a huge sigh of  
relief. The Slytherin had only been out for half a minute, but time ticked by much more  
slowly when you thought someone was dead. "What happened just now?"  
  
Realization set in. Draco had not been asleep. He had merely overexerted  
himself. Curse this insomnia! Not only did he fail to catch the snitch, but then he  
collapsed in front of Potter? In a huff, Draco quickly jumped to his feet. "Nothing  
happened," he answered snidely, turning to walk away.  
  
But before he even moved two steps, Draco felt a wave of dizziness wash over him  
as he plummeted to the ground. This time, however, his fall was not broken by the  
dewy grass, but was cushioned by a soft body. Large slate blue eyes stared down in  
obvious shock at the boy who was now pinned beneath him.  
  
Harry was equally surprised. When he saw Malfoy about to smash into the ground  
again, he instinctively threw himself forward to break the other's fall. Now Harry's eyes  
were locked with Malfoy's, neither of the boys moving.  
  
Quickly averting his gaze, Draco climbed off of Harry. After a moment's hesitation,  
he stretched out a hand to him.  
  
Gripping the pale hand tightly, Harry was pulled effortlessly to his feet. He looked  
at Malfoy, then stared in unbridled fascination at their hands, which were still entwined.   
For whatever reason, his hand didn't seem to want to let go of Malfoy's.  
  
What was this sorcery that Potter had done to him? Draco couldn't seem to move  
his hand, the hand that fit snugly laced between Potter's graceful fingers, the same  
hand that usually itched to punch The Boy Who Lived. His hand wasn't itching now,  
though. It was warm and growing warmer by the second, like someone was giving him  
electric shocks. His hand was burning now, and he briefly wondered if it would  
permanently fuse with the hand gripping his just as tightly.  
  
Wrenching away, Draco took a step backward. He would have continued to fall  
had a strong arm not wrapped itself around his waist. Oh, bloody hell, what was wrong  
with him?  
  
Harry gazed worriedly at Malfoy, who was leaning heavily against Harry's side.   
There was no doubt in his mind now that something was not right with the Slytherin.   
He contemplated asking his rival what was going on, buy why waste his breath? He'd  
have better luck reading tea leaves.  
  
In complete silence, the two boys made their way rather slowly back to the school.   
Surprisingly, they passed not a singly living soul. They did run across Peeves, but  
Harry ducked into an empty classroom before they could be tormented by the  
obnoxious ghost. Once the hallway was clear, they hurried across the corridor and  
down the stairs to where the dungeons were.  
  
The Slytherin house dorms were not too far from their potions classroom. Harry  
knew exactly where they were, thanks to his Marauders Map. He could tell that Draco  
was surprised Harry knew where he was going. Well, now Harry supposed they both  
had their little secrets.  
  
Stopping in front of a painting of a large green coiled serpent that was gazing at  
them with beady eyes, Harry looked expectantly at Draco. When the Slytherin only  
stared back, Harry sighed and shifted his weight. "Password?" he asked patiently.  
  
"Oh." Draco's high cheekbones dusted the slightest hint of pink as he muttered  
the password and the painting swung open.  
  
Harry half-led, half-carried the tired boy into the Slytherin common room. His eyes  
swept over everything with piqued curiosity. He was surprised to see that it was pretty  
much identical to his own common room, except for being decorated in green and  
silver. It just didn't have the same atmosphere to the room. Maybe it was because this  
room was in the dungeons. Or maybe it was due to the fact that it was the Slytherin  
common room, and it wasn't supposed to be cozy and friendly. After all, how many  
people were invited in there, anyway?  
  
As Draco less than subtly cleared his throat, Harry was started out of his thoughts.   
He grinned sheepishly, hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Just comparing common  
rooms," he explained.  
  
Draco shot Harry a look of pure annoyance. He pulled out of the other boy's arms.   
"I'm fine here. You can leave now."  
  
"But what about--"  
  
"I'm not an invalid. I can take care of myself," Draco interrupted, moving to usher  
Harry from the room. When Harry was outside in the hallway, the blonde went to close  
the door. He paused as Harry turned away. Hesitantly, he called out, "Potter?   
Thanks."  
  
Whirling around, Harry found himself staring at the serpent painting once more.   
Did he just hear what he thought he heard? Harry was definitely surprised to find out  
that Malfoy was capable of apologizing. And he even sounded like he meant it, too.  
  
Now Harry was really worried. Malfoy never apologized. He never showed  
weakness. And he most certainly never acted civilly to Harry Potter. Something  
critical must be wrong. Maybe he was dying? No, not even the Slytherin was that  
good an actor. Harry chuckled uneasily.  
  
"Potter!"  
  
Oh, no. Why, oh why, did trouble always seem to find him in the most  
inconvenient places? Harry turned around, meeting Professor Snape's patent glare.   
"Yes, Professor?"  
  
"What are you doing outside of the Slytherin dormitories, Potter?" Snape asked in  
his low, throaty voice. Honestly, why couldn't the Boy Wonder find some other hallway  
to skulk through?  
  
"I was just..." Harry trailed off. He was just, what? Helping an almost  
unconscious Malfoy back to his room? Fraternizing with his sworn enemy? There was  
no answer here that Snape would approve of or believe. "Nothing, Professor. I got lost,"  
he finished lamely.  
  
"Five points from Gryffindor for being in an unauthorized place. Take a right and go  
up the stairs. And Potter, maybe you should draw a map so as not to repeat this  
blunder again?" Snape added nastily, smirking as he continued on down the hallway.  
  
Harry made a face as he found his way back up the stairs, thoughts once again  
focused on the troubled blonde Slytherin. His first instinct was to run and tell  
Hermione. She was, after all, the problem solver of the trio.  
  
But something made him stop in his tracks. He couldn't tell Hermione what just  
happened. Whatever it was, Harry was positive that Malfoy did not want anyone to  
know. Funny thing was, that was actually a good enough reason for Harry. Normally,  
he could care less about what Malfoy wanted. Why would he keep the other boy's  
secrets?  
  
Because Harry had secrets of his own.  
  
He had secrets that even his two best friends didn't know. He never told them how  
torturous his summers were with the Dursleys. While Ron had a vague idea, it was still  
nowhere close to his actual home life. No, he never told anyone how he had been fed  
maybe once every couple of days and was beaten into oblivion more times than he  
could help. Harry couldn't retaliate with magic because of the Ministry, so he just took  
everything that was dealt to him. What was that saying? That which doesn't kill you  
only makes you stronger?  
  
Oh, that couldn't be more right. The summer after his fourth year had been  
particularly brutal. Harry was still grieving over Cedric Diggory's death, not to mention  
worrying endlessly about Voldemort's inevitable uprising. He was so depressed that he  
hadn't been tending to his household duties, which only infuriated the Dursleys that  
much more. It was then that Harry decided to fight back.  
  
Instead of crying for Cedric, Harry decided to use his tears as tears of rage and not  
of sorrow. That summer was when he made a change, and for the better. He started  
working out, which improved not only his frail physique but his self-esteem as well. It  
gave him the courage to stand up to his Uncle Vernon and threaten the poor excuse for  
a man until he was a quivering mass in the corner. That was the summer where he  
transformed from Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, to Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived  
For Himself. Since then, he was ignored by the Dursleys. He could do his summer  
homework in peace, without having to clean the house or cook the meals or be  
Dudley's punching bag. He could do what he wanted to do.  
  
Now here it was, two and a half years later. Harry was in his sixth year and was  
becoming quite the wizard. Of course, most of that had to do with life experience and  
not from studying.  
  
Harry had never been wonderful in his classes, but when everything was on the  
line, he had no choice but to step up and fight. The final battle with Voldemort came  
right before fifth year ended. He and the Death Eaters had surprise attacked Hogwarts.   
There was magic for days, and many great wizards were killed. But in the end, it all  
came down to Harry and Voldemort.  
  
He still didn't know how he defeated the Dark Lord. After the fight, he had been  
unconscious for over a month, allowing his body to heal. The thing with comas,  
though, is that they let the body heal, but not the mind.  
  
Since that day a good six months ago, Harry found it difficult to think of anything  
else. Every day he would find something else that would remind him of what he had  
suffered through or all of the people that were lost. That was when it all started.  
  
The nightmares.  
  
Oh gods, the nightmares. Just thinking about them made Harry shiver. Right after  
he woke up from his coma, he had started having nightmares every night. Now they  
were down to four or five nights a week. Harry supposed he should be thankful for small  
favors, but it was difficult to be thankful for something that caused him to break out in  
cold sweats and screaming fits. After waking up his dormmates a couple of times,  
Harry concocted a silencing potion so that no one could hear his cries. Since then, his  
friends only assumed that Harry's nightmares had subsided.  
  
That couldn't have been further from the truth.  
  
Even the dreamless Potions had no effect on him, much to his horror. Not only did  
Voldemort haunt Harry while he was alive, but the dark wizard continued his assault  
even after his death, and it was slowly killing Harry.  
  
He could never tell Ron and Hermione. They were his family, and they would worry  
much more than they should, which they always seemed to do. The last thing he  
wanted was to cause any more unnecessary pain.  
  
So he kept it to himself. He went about acting as he usually did while everyone  
was none the wiser. Harry even wondered if Dumbledore knew about his nightmares.   
The headmaster had not let on that he was aware of Harry's suffering. While he found it  
strange, Harry was partially relieved. He had spent the last five years with people  
watching after him, fussing over his safety. Harry was ecstatic that they no longer had  
to worry, even if he did receive nightmares as a byproduct.  
  
A low growl resounded through the hallway, and Harry realized that he had been  
standing right outside of Filch's office. Mrs. Norris! He'd better get out of there!  
  
Harry made a mad dash for the Gryffindor common room, practically shouting the  
password as he scrambled out of the hallway. Sure, it was nowhere near curfew, but  
Harry had learned a long time ago that Filch could care less. He always found  
something you were doing wrong, which led to detention, and often with Snape. that  
was never pleasant, as Harry knew from experience. He involuntarily shuddered,  
leaning up against the door.  
  
He fell backwards in the doorway as the painting suddenly swung open and  
revealed his two best friends.  
  
"Harry, where have you been?" Ron asked as he helped Harry up. "You weren't in  
the library. We've been looking all over for you!"  
  
"I was practicing Quidditch," Harry answered as they sat down on the sofa.  
Technically that way true. He had been practicing, just not right before he made it  
back to the common room.  
  
"We were just at the pitch," Hermione put in, watching Harry.  
  
"Must've just missed me, then." At this point, Harry knew that he wasn't going to  
tell them about Malfoy. They weren't exactly a fan of the Slytherin. Hell, he wasn't,  
either! He didn't even know why he was going to bother trying to find out what was  
wrong with Malfoy, but he was.  
  
They seemed to have accepted his answer as the conversation wandered to a new  
topic. Then Harry remembered that he wasn't the only one who needed to explain his  
whereabouts. "Hey, you weren't here when I left the library. Where did you go?"  
  
At the simple question, both Ron and Hermione grinned, trying desperately not to  
laugh. "Well, right after you left, Neville came running in here," Ron began, his grin  
widening. "He had been practicing Transfigurations in McGonagall's classroom. It  
seems he accidentally--accidentally--" he couldn't finish the sentence from trying to  
hold in his laughter.  
  
Hermione picked up the story, trying not to giggle herself. "He accidentally  
transfigured all of the tables into toads, so we were recruited to help round them up and  
transfigure them back."  
  
At this time, all three were laughing. Harry could just imagine Neville making a  
simple error in his spell and then having a renegade group of toads to deal with. The  
trio continued to talk and laugh about Neville's antics, and Harry silently thanks the  
gods that his friends' interrogation of his whereabouts was short. He wasn't ready to  
tell them anything... until he talked to a certain someone else.  
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Groaning, Draco rolled his side. Damnit, he wanted to sleep! He had thought that  
this was it, that nothing worse could happen.  
  
And then he had run into Harry Potter. There was no doubt in his mind that Potter  
would figure out what was going on with Draco. The Gryffindor wasn't stupid, by any  
means. Dense, annoying, and a goody-goody, yes, but not stupid. Draco just  
wondered what would happen when Potter found out. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a  
bad thing...  
  
Wait a minute. What the hell was he thinking? Of course it would be bad if Potter  
found out! If he found out, he'd tell his two Wonder Friends, and then everyone else in  
school would find out. Then Dumbledore would make him go see Madam Pomfrey, and  
he really didn't want to do that. While the woman did know what she was doing, she  
tended to go more than overboard with her remedies. And besides, Draco had better  
things to do than to lie around in the infirmary for a week. Potions or spells wouldn't  
work on his insomnia. He knew; he tried them all.  
  
But back to the matter at hand. How could he fend off Potter? He could always  
hex someone as a cover, but who? How about Potter himself? That might shut up the  
yapping Gryffindor. Or make him that much more eager to talk...  
  
Draco sighed, becoming quite tired with the entire situation. He didn't even want to  
think about it any more, so he didn't. He wanted to sleep, but he couldn't. So he did  
the next best thing: space out for the rest of the night.  
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I know, there's no really fluffy action going on between Harry and Draco, but we'll get there, I promise! There will be much cuteness ahead. All you need to do is stay tuned! And please review, because it really does make me write faster. Thanks! I love you guys! 


	3. Admit It

I must be crazy. Honestly. It's only been a week since I first posted this fic, and I'm already working on the third chapter. I've never posted this fast on ANY of my fics before, and I've written quite a few of em. So yay for me! Thanks for all of your wonderful reviews. If not for you guys, I wouldn't be posting this chapter until next week sometime. But! I think you'll be happy to hear that I went on an absolute writing frenzy these past couple days and have gotten a lot written, so hopefully the chapters will be posted very frequently. Anyway, I do hope you enjoy this chapter. Read on!  
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Insomnia  
Chapter 3: Admit It  
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Monday morning found the Gryffindors and Slytherins in Double Potions, much to  
the chagrin of the former house. Whenever they were in that class, they always found  
themselves a large handful of points shorter when they walked out. And Harry be  
damned if Snape's dislike for the Gryffindor himself was not the usual cause of the hefty  
point loss.  
  
Laying his head down on the table, Harry clenched his eyes shut tightly. He  
wanted to make the class go away, make Slytherin go away, everyone and everything  
go away. Then he could just be in silence... which would be a huge contrast to his  
sleep last night. He had one of his more vivid dreams, with the screams and hexes and  
falling bodies in a river of blood and broken wands... Would he ever be able to sleep  
again?  
  
Raising his head, Harry opened his eyes just in time to see Draco saunter into the  
classroom with his usual smirk. As soon as his eyes met Harry's, and they inevitably  
did, that smirk transformed into a scowl. Just seeing the blonde's quick-changing  
expression brought Draco's characteristic smirk to Harry's own face, which only  
seemed to irritate the Slytherin further. So, he was throwing off Malfoy, was he? This  
could really come in handy later.  
  
"Harry," Ron nudged Harry as he glanced to the back of the room curiously. "Why  
is Malfoy glaring at you like that?"  
  
"Beats me," Harry shrugged, not bothering to turn around. He could practically feel  
Malfoy's eyes trying to burn a hole in the back of his head, and he thought it was  
hilarious. All he had to do was anger Malfoy enough. Then maybe, just maybe, the  
blonde would start to talk. Either way, this should still be fun.  
  
Before Ron could inquire further, Professor Snape made his daily dramatic  
entrance, signaling the start of class. He began lecturing on weather-changing potions.   
"Each group will have the same basic potion," he was saying as he began writing a list  
of ingredients on the board. "Weather potions differ only in their amounts of certain  
ingredients. Once everyone is finished, we will go outside and test each potion."  
  
Harry and Ron were to make a rainstorm potion, which called for seven extra  
scarab beetle wings of the same size. These happened to be located in the back of  
the room, right behind a certain blonde-haired Slytherin's table. Harry offered to get the  
ingredients while Ron continued to stir the potion.  
  
Grabbing the bottle of wings, Harry counted out seven of the same size. Then, as  
an afterthought, he plucked one more out. As he walked by Malfoy's table, inspiration  
struck. Pretending to stumble, Harry ran into the table and made Malfoy's potions  
book fall to the ground.  
  
"Clumsy as ever, Potter," Draco sneered as he bent over to retrieve his book.  
  
Eyes darting around furtively, Harry spotted Blaise Zabini, Malfoy's potions partner,  
getting extra ingredients at the front of the room. Snape was busy chewing out Neville.   
Everyone else was concentrating on their potions. Harry took this opportunity to drop  
the extra wing into Malfoy's potion before hurrying back to his own table.  
  
The potions were finished shortly after. Each group had a bottle corked shut to  
hold in the swirling mist that was a huge difference from their usual liquid potions. They  
filed outside onto the grounds near Professor Sprout's greenhouses.  
  
After placing a blocking charm around the group to keep out the weather, Professor  
Snape spoke up. "All right, which potion shall we try first?" His eyes scanned the  
group of nervous Gryffindors and Slytherins alike. "Mr. Longbottom," he addressed the  
slightly trembling boy with a malicious smile. "You and Mr. Finnigan shall be first."  
  
With tiny steps and a slight push from Seamus, Neville made his way to the front  
of the group. With shaking fingers, he uncorked the bottle and watched as the swirling  
midnight blue mist wafted up into the air and disappeared. Within seconds, large  
clouds started rolling in, darkening the sky as the sun was hidden.  
  
Snape's mouth twitched ever so slightly. It turned out that the potion was brewed  
correctly, and he had no excuse to take any points. Oh well, he still had the rest of the  
Gryffindors to go.  
  
Group by group, each potion was released into the atmosphere, creating a  
successful weather change each time. At the end, only two groups were left: Harry  
and Ron, and Draco and Blaise.  
  
Quite naturally, Harry and Ron were up first. After an encouraging word from  
Hermione and a quick prayer, Harry opened their bottle up. At first, nothing happened.   
But then the sky turned an inky blue as massive gray clouds appeared out of nowhere  
and released a torrent of large raindrops.  
  
Harry and Ron were congratulating each other when a large drop of water landed on  
Harry's nose, followed by another cold drop. "Hey, it's leaking in here," he complained,  
wiping the water off with his sleeve.  
  
"Ten points from Gryffindor for making too strong a potion," Snape's voice  
interrupted, a hint of unconcealed pleasure mixed in with his gravely tone. At this, all of  
the Gryffindors threw him furious glares.  
  
"What, so it's our fault that his magic can't hold up like it's supposed to?" Ron  
asked in a low voice, clearly angry.  
  
Harry shared Ron's opinion, but he was too busy looking forward to the last potion  
they were going to see to stay upset over their point deduction.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, why don't you show the group how a real weather potion is supposed  
to work?"  
  
Smirk in place once again, Draco took his place in front of the group. He knew that  
Professor Snape had saved the best for last. His potion was one of the most difficult  
weather potions to brew because it required one extra half cup of newt eyes minced  
just the right way. And if it all went smoothly, which it should, then Draco's potion  
would create a ten-second tornado.  
  
Uncorking the bottle, Draco and the rest of the class watched as a very large,  
angry funnel twirled into existence and headed straight toward the class.  
  
"It will stop before it gets to us," Snape assured the class as a couple of students  
began to back away nervously. True to his word, the funnel disappeared in a last wispy  
thread of wind, but not before producing a large black raincloud. As the heavens  
opened up right above them, Snape's defective shield was completely deactivated as  
everyone was soaked by the literal two-second downpour.  
  
As the sky began to once again see swirls of blue peek out of the clouds, Snape  
was almost at a loss for words. Almost. "Mr. Malfoy, what exactly was that?" he  
asked smoothly, evenly.  
  
Even though he didn't show it, Draco knew that Professor Snape was none too  
happy that his prized Potions student, in his own house, no less, had flubbed his  
potion. Hell, who could blame the man? Draco was pissed, too! He did everything  
correctly; there was no doubt in his mind about that. He mentally went through every  
process of making the potion. It all went smoothly until... Potter! Draco scanned the  
group for the culprit.  
  
Obviously Harry realized that Malfoy would figure out what happened to his potion.   
Judging by the icy glare currently aimed in his direction, Harry knew that he and the  
other boy would be exchanging words shortly.  
  
Soon after, Snape dismissed the class so that the students could change into dry  
clothes. Harry was about to follow Ron and Hermione when a hand roughly grabbed his  
arm, holding him back.  
  
"We need to talk, Potter," Draco spit out vehemently.  
  
"Let him go, you prat!" Ron took a step forward, but he stopped with Harry's next  
words.  
  
"Go ahead, Ron. It's fine."  
  
Judging from the determined look on Harry's face, Ron knew there was no point in  
arguing. With a defeated sigh, Ron led a protesting Hermione by the arm into the  
castle.  
  
As soon as the door closed behind them, Harry calmly turned his attention to  
Draco. "Yes, Malfoy?" he asked pleasantly.  
  
"What did you do?" Draco hissed, not letting go of his tight grip on Harry's arm.  
  
"With all due respect, Malfoy, you're the one holding me in place, not the other way  
around."  
  
At this, Draco yanked his hand away, taking a step back. His eyes flashed  
angrily. "I'm talking about my potion,' he through gritted teeth. "What the hell did you  
do to it?"  
  
"Oh, your potion?" Harry ignored the other boy's accusation. "That was quite a  
show back there, what with the sudden downpour and all. A shame, really." He  
gestured to his soaked robes.  
  
"You know what I mean, Potter. You sabotaged my potion."  
  
Harry blinked, his mouth dropping open in mock surprise. "Why, Malfoy, how  
could you accuse me of such a thing? It's certainly not my fault that you can't make a  
decent weather-changing potion." With that, he turned around to leave but was yanked  
back by the now livid Slytherin.  
  
"Admit it, or I'll..."  
  
"Or you'll what? You'll use one of your newly discovered sleeping draughts on  
me?" Harry taunted, hoping the other boy would take the bait.  
  
"Those potions weren't for you! They were for--" As soon as Draco realized just  
what he was about to give away, he quickly shut his mouth and dashed into the castle.  
  
Shaking his head, Harry cursed silently. He was close, so close, to finding out  
what was going on with Malfoy. This may take more work than he had realized. At  
least he found out that Malfoy wasn't after *him*. Not just yet, at least. But now he  
had to figure out exactly who would be the unsuspecting victim.  
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Leaning up against the wall, Draco tried to catch his breath from running all the  
way down to the dungeons. Not a smart move for someone who was lacking energy.   
At least he got away from Potter.  
  
Potter. This was all his fault. All right, so the insomnia wasn't, but the rest of this  
mess was. Idiot boy, trying to stick his nose in where it doesn't belong. It would only  
be a matter of time now, but Draco refused to help the Gryffindor on his way.  
  
Glancing at his watch, Draco groaned. Herbology started in fifteen minutes, and he  
had yet to change into dry robes. He trekked miserably to his room, getting ready to  
face the undoubtably long day.  
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Hehe, just thought I'd add a little bit of humor in there... But now I'm beginning to wonder if I should have written some detail about our two fave boys in their drenched clothes, with the thin, waterlogged garments pressed tightly against pale, sinewy skin... Hmm... Oh well. Please review! The more reviews I get, the faster I post... and I think I've proven that the theory does indeed work! So please write me something, ANYthing, and make my day! 


	4. Looks Can Be Deceiving

Sorry I didn't get this out sooner. I've been busy this week with school... Had a nasty Cognitive Psych test on Wednesday that kicked my butt. Not good... Anyway, I did happen to get some writing done this week amidst all the chaos. I have another chapter ready to be typed up, so that should be up next week. I know, this chapter isn't super long, but it's the best I can do at the moment. Read on and enjoy!  
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Insomnia  
Chapter 4: Looks Can Be Deceiving  
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What an insufferable day! Harry was more than thrilled when dinnertime arrived,  
because that meant his classes were done for the evening. It wasn't that he disliked  
his classes. It was just that he had been having trouble concentrating lately, mostly  
due to his abominable quality of sleep. Lucky for him that his friends always helped  
him in class when he started to doze or space out, which was happening more and  
more frequently.  
  
Sighing wearily, Harry plopped down at the already crowded Gryffindor table and  
began blindly piling food onto his plate.  
  
"You all right there, Harry?" Ron asked in concern as Harry tried to stab his goblet  
of pumpkin juice with a fork.  
  
"What? Oh, I'm fine," he said brightly, stuffing his mouth full of bread pudding as if  
to prove his point.  
  
Ron and Hermione exchanged uncertain glances. They didn't know whether or not  
to believe Harry, but they just shrugged it off and continued eating.  
  
Hermione didn't want to push Harry's strange behavior. Even now, his strange  
behavior was becoming his normal behavior. She knew that he was still suffering from  
You-Know-Who's final attack. Who wouldn't be? She suppressed a shudder. She just  
wished that Harry would talk to her, Ron, anyone, to release some of that pent-up rage  
and fear.  
  
But Hermione knew better. Harry wouldn't talk until he was good and ready. So  
she watched him, every day becoming more and more withdrawn from them but trying  
harder and harder to act normal. Harry may have been able to fool Ron, but not her.   
Never her.  
  
Pushing those thoughts aside, Hermione happened to glance at the Slytherin table.   
She was surprised to see that Malfoy was not in the thick of the House's conversation.   
In fact, he wasn't at the table at all. "Hey guys, Malfoy isn't at dinner."  
  
"So? It's not our jobs to keep tabs on the ruddy bastard." Ron said with contempt,  
slamming a fist on the table and upsetting a pitcher of pumpkin juice.  
  
"Hey!" came the protests of a handful of Gryffindors who got soaked.  
  
"It is if he's up to something," Hermione reminded him.  
  
Ron launched into a tirade about having to baby-sit the Slytherin, but Harry tuned  
him out. For some reason, this nagging feeling developed in the pit of his stomach. It  
was not a feeling he liked, and he knew that it had something to do with his arch-rival.  
  
All throughout dinner, he couldn't shake the feeling, and it was unnerving him. That  
decided it then and there. After dinner, he was going to find Malfoy and make sure he  
was all right. Why did he care, anyway? He had no earthly idea. Maybe it was  
because he was Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, and that was how he was supposed  
to react. No, that wasn't it. Maybe it was because he felt pity for the other boy. No,  
that definitely wasn't it.  
  
Harry made sure to keep his seat until his friends had finished eating. Following  
them back to the common room, he headed straight for the trunk at the end of his bed.   
Retrieving the Marauders Map, his emerald gaze searched methodically for the bright  
glowing dot accompanying Malfoy's name. So far he was having less than no luck.   
There were too many people milling about.  
  
At last Harry spotted the name in a section of the school he had never been in. It  
was upstairs, in the opposite direction from Professor Trelawney's classroom. Why  
would Malfoy be somewhere over there?  
  
Throwing his friends some excuse about studying, Harry ducked out of the  
common room and up the stairs, being careful to dodge the sets that moved. Once he  
made it to the top of the stairs, Harry consulted the map once more. The Malfoy dot  
was still there, at the end of the hallway. Harry took the corridor to the left, watching  
his own Harry dot as it ambled along on the map. He still had a long way to go.  
  
All of the doors looked the same down this hallway, and they gave no indication as  
to what was hidden in the rooms behind them. He didn't guess they were classrooms,  
since he never heard anyone talk about going in them. Well, that and the layer of dust  
he was currently kicking up was a sufficient indication.  
  
Glancing down at the map again, he saw that he was almost to the Malfoy dot,  
which wasn't moving. Five rooms to go, then four... Two now... Finally he stood  
outside the room that the Malfoy dot inhabited. Wasting no time, Harry slowly opened  
the creaking door. He stepped into the dimly lit room, temporarily halting in his search  
so that he could survey what he had just stumbled upon.  
  
The room was quite large, and it was decorated in reds and golds. Off to the side  
was a tall four-poster bed with a gold coverlet and canopy. A mahogany table with  
intricate carvings sat next to it, while a matching chest of drawers stood across the  
room. Straight ahead were a couple of deep orange-red cushioned chairs, both facing a  
fireplace that was lit.  
  
This was what reminded Harry of the task at hand. Slowly he made his way  
across the room, cautiously approaching the sitting area. One of the chairs was  
indeed occupied.  
  
Draco's eyes were closed, his platinum hair brushing against his cheeks. Was he  
sleeping? He didn't move when the door had opened. Harry stood in front of the chair,  
debating what to do. Should he leave the boy alone? Should he wake him?  
  
No, Harry didn't want to wake him. He looked quite peaceful in the chair.   
Unconsciously, Harry reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from Draco's face.  
  
Suddenly he was met with the cool blue gaze of the other boy. "Potter?" Draco  
asked incredulously.  
  
With a slight flush, Harry slowly pulled his hand back to his side. "I'm sorry," he  
apologized. "I didn't know you were awake."  
  
"I'm awake. I'm always awake." Draco was fully aware of what he was divulging to  
the Gryffindor. Why bother keeping the secret any longer? It was slowly driving him  
mad, anyway.  
  
Harry's brain processed these words, storing them for later use. First he wanted to  
gain the trust of his longtime enemy, if such a thing was possible. Sitting down in the  
second chair, Harry couldn't help but ask, "What is this room?"  
  
Draco seemed surprised by the question. "I thought you knew?" When Harry only  
shook his head in reply, Draco continued. "This is Godric Gryffindor's old bedroom."  
  
At the words, Harry paled. This was the bedroom of his House's founder? No  
wonder it was adorned in Gryffindor colors! Just then Harry noticed a crest with a lion  
hanging above the fireplace. There was no doubt about it now. "How did you find this  
place?" he asked, awed.  
  
"A couple of weeks ago, I was in Professor Trelawney's classroom. When I left, I  
must not have been paying attention because I was soon lost. Since I was here  
anyway, I decided to explore, and I found this room. After that, I would come up here  
to get away from everyone and everything."  
  
"Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you," Harry started to rise from his seat.  
  
"It's all right. Stay," Draco offered, and he meant it, which threw him. Since when  
did he not mind Potter's company? Since a while ago, he guessed. For whatever  
reason, Draco didn't seem to hate the other boy like he used to, and this confused him  
to no end.  
  
Harry watched Draco closely, seeing the brief stir of emotions flash across his face  
before settling on indifference once again. Maybe now he could get him to talk.   
"Malfoy, what's going on?" he asked gently.  
  
Blinking at the question, Draco sighed. He knew he would eventually have to  
explain himself, but that didn't make the task any easier. "I can't sleep. I have  
insomnia."  
  
Insomnia? That would explain Malfoy's strange behavior these past couple of days,  
not to mention the potions research. "Have you tried warm pumpkin juice or--"  
  
"I've tried everything," Draco interrupted, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice  
but failing miserably. "This isn't a short-term thing. I haven't slept in twenty-two days  
now."  
  
Harry gaped openly. Twenty-two days? "But-but that's over three weeks!" he  
sputtered stupidly.  
  
"Good counting skills! Give the man a prize," Draco spit out sarcastically.  
  
"I didn't mean--"  
  
"I know. Sorry."  
  
There he went again, using an un-Malfoy-like gesture. Harry could feel something  
akin to understanding. In more respects, he had a problem similar to the Slytherin's.   
Sure, he slept physically, but it was always ruined by nightmares of death and  
destruction. Harry stopped, an idea forming. Maybe the reason Malfoy couldn't sleep  
was because something happened to him three weeks ago. It was worth asking about.  
  
"Maybe," Harry started quietly, "maybe something happened?" When Draco  
looked at him questioningly, he rushed on. "To cause your insomnia, I mean. Did  
anything happen three weeks ago that affected you?"  
  
'What would affect me?' Draco thought in all seriousness. He was Draco Malfoy,  
the richest student in school, the brilliant Slytherin, the son of Lucius Malfoy, the son of  
a... "Father," he whispered, swallowing hard.  
  
Leaning forward, Harry listened closely to the other boy. He didn't want to interrupt  
for fear of scaring Malfoy off. Harry knew that whatever he was about to hear  
desperately needed to be said.  
  
Draco had never been one to share information about his personal life, especially  
about his feelings, but he needed to get this out. His thoughts were swimming in his  
head, starting to hum. He knew the only way to get rid of them was to confront them.  
  
"My father. Three weeks ago, he was hauled off to Azkaban." Why hadn't he  
made the connection before? It had been quite the drama at the time. Cornelius  
Fudge and other Ministry officials had burst into their home with hard evidence that his  
father had been supporting the Dark Lord. For his actions, Lucius Malfoy would spend  
the rest of his days imprisoned. And Draco didn't care.  
  
Once his father realized that Draco had no intention of joining Voldemort's quest to  
rule, Draco had been virtually disowned. The split was a double-edged sword for him.   
On one hand, he did not have to support the side of Evil. On the opposite end of the  
spectrum, though, his home life had been destroyed. When he turned his back on his  
father, Draco had also turned his back on his mother. He went days, sometimes  
weeks, without seeing either of them. And when they did happen to run into each other  
by chance, one person ignored the other.  
  
When his dad was taken away, his mother had also left the house. She just  
disappeared one day and never came back home. Apparently the house-elves reported  
this to the Ministry, and they informed Dumbledore. This was how Draco found out.   
He had been pulled out of Arithmancy that morning and taken to the headmaster's  
office. When he heard the news, he didn't get angry. He didn't break down into  
hysterical sobs. He didn't do anything.  
  
Since he was almost a legal adult and had no living relatives, the Ministry decided  
that Draco could live on his own. He had technically inherited millions along with  
Malfoy Manor, but he had no intentions of going back there anytime soon. Just the  
thought of being in that huge place alone, save the house-elves, was enough to make  
him shudder. He was now alone, completely alone.  
  
And he told Harry this. He told Harry everything, about his parents and the way he  
felt, about feeling empty inside, about not knowing who he was supposed to be now.  
  
Harry just listened. He sat patiently while Draco spilled forth his secrets,  
discarding them one by one into the air to be carried away. At one point, while he was  
talking about his mother, Draco has this look on his face like he might break down.   
Not knowing what else to do, Harry reached over and placed a hand reassuringly on  
Draco's arm. The blonde gave a brief look of surprise before continuing on with his  
story.  
  
The words came tumbling out of Draco's mouth faster and faster. He wanted to get  
rid of them, to make these feelings go away. Because the fact was, he did care. Sure,  
he knew he was better off on his own than with his parents, but he wasn't ready to be  
alone. He told Harry so.  
  
"But you're not alone," Harry told Draco, hand still on his arm. "You have the rest  
of your House, Dumbledore, even Snape." He tried to say this last name without  
curling his lips into a sneer but didn't quite pull it off.  
  
At this, Draco gave a weak grin. "He's not as bad as you think," he defended his  
House leader.  
  
"He took points from me after I brought you to your dorm the other day."  
  
"Well then, maybe I'll do something to lose points so we'll be even again. It's only  
fair, you know, since you were helping me."  
  
"Just think of this as a free one. Next time you need my help, though, it'll cost you."  
  
"And what makes you think there'll be a next time?" Draco demanded, feigning insult.  
  
Harry smiled. "Don't worry, There's always a next time." Removing his hand from  
Draco's arm, he glanced at his watch and sighed. "We should probably head back.   
It's getting late."  
  
"It's not that late," Draco argued. He briefly wondered why he was even trying to get  
the other boy to stay. Maybe it was because he enjoyed the other's company, or he  
felt calm around him. Or maybe, just maybe, it was something else entirely.  
  
He just didn't want to be alone yet again.  
  
Sensing this, Harry had a quick debate in his head. Technically, he should just  
leave. They were in a part of the school he was pretty sure they weren't supposed to  
be in, and it would be curfew in another hour or so. Not only that, but he was with  
Draco Malfoy, of all people!  
  
Then again, when had Harry ever cared about being in a place he wasn't supposed  
to be in? And he snuck out after curfew all the time. And sure, he was with Draco  
Malfoy, of all people, but that was all right.  
  
More importantly, Harry wanted to be there.  
  
Settling back into the chair's soft cushions, Harry noticed the look of relief that  
crossed Draco's face. With that one glance, he knew it was going to be an interesting evening.  
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There ya go, some insight into Draco's problems. Poor guy didn't even realize where his own problems were coming from. Must've been that craziness from the lack of sleep. Anyway, I know there's no wonderfully fluffy action going on yet, but I believe the chapter after next will have some good stuff. Please review! I post faster that way, I really do. And I love hearing your opinions! 


	5. Runaway

Thanks to everyone who read (and reviewed) chapter 4! I decided to post this earlier than I intended because it's shorter than the other chapters. That, and I needed a break from studying for my chem 2 test tomorrow. Well, I think you'll be happy to hear that I'm almost finished writing this fic! All I need to do is tweak the ending, and then I'm good to go. Anyway, I don't want to bore you with a long note, so here it is, chapter 5. Read on and enjoy!  
  
(Oh, and I apologize if there are any typos... This chapter deleted itself 4 times, each time after I had read through it and was about to save... Stupid comp...)  
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Insomnia  
Chapter 5: Runaway  
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"You did not!"  
  
"Well, it wasn't just me. Ron and Hermione were there, too," Harry defended  
himself as Draco shot him a look of disbelief.  
  
"Still, I can't believe that you used a polyjuice potion to become Crabbe and  
Goyle!" Draco guffawed, trying to catch his breath. He supposed he should be angry  
that the privacy of Slytherin was invaded, but it was just too hilarious to think of the two  
Gryffindors taking on the shapes of his former bodyguards.  
  
"Believe me, it wasn't the best experience of my life," Harry shuddered,  
remembering the thick, sludgy feeling of being stuck in Goyle's giant body.  
  
"I would imagine," Draco chuckled. "You were quite the troublemaker."  
  
Harry coughed exaggeratingly. "This coming from the original bad boy," he shot  
back with a laugh.  
  
"All right, I'll admit that I used to be king of all that was trouble, but I haven't been  
for quite a while."  
  
"Yeah..." Harry said thoughtfully. He had noticed. Their standoffs hadn't happened  
quite so much in the past couple of years. Funny thing was, Harry had almost missed them.  
  
"Yeah," Draco echoed before yawning loudly, tingeing his cheeks pink.  
  
Glancing at his watch, Harry did a double-take. It was past eleven! They had been  
talking for over two hours since Harry had almost left. "It's late, past curfew," he reported.  
  
"Figured as such. Should we head back?" Draco asked, standing despite the  
protests of his aching body. He yawned again.  
  
Well, it was already past curfew. He didn't know about Malfoy, but Harry would be  
missed. Then again, he was known for disappearing all night, just to get away after his  
nightmares. He had been doing that a lot in the past six months. They would worry,  
sure, but they wouldn't question him in the morning. They never did.  
  
"We might as well just stay here for the night," Harry continued slowly. "There's no  
reason to risk getting caught by Filch." All right, so he had the Marauders Map, but he  
wasn't quite ready to share that little secret with the other boy. And for whatever  
reason, he wasn't quite ready to leave, either.  
  
"You sure?" Draco studied him carefully. It did make sense... but there was only  
one bed in the room. Plus there was the tiny matter of his insomnia.  
  
Harry nodded. "Might as well." He glanced around the room. One bed, two  
people. It was a rather large bed... but he didn't think so. "You take the bed," he  
offered. "I'll sleep in one of the armchairs."  
  
"No, you take the bed. Chances are I won't be sleeping." Well, it was true, he  
mused. Might as well let the bed go to the person who could actually enjoy its comfort.  
  
"You're taking it," Harry repeated firmly. He wasn't planning on sleeping, not after  
the previous night's nightmare. He began pulling the armchair toward the bed. "I'll sit  
by you until you fall asleep."  
  
"You'll be sitting there a while. You're forgetting that I can't sleep." Draco followed  
Harry across the room, facing him with his arms crossed over his chest defiantly.  
  
"Have you tried sleeping lately?"  
  
Draco's stance faltered. "Well, not in the past few nights," he admitted.  
  
"That settles it, then." Harry sat down in the armchair that was now facing the bed.  
  
There was no arguing with the boy. Defeated, Draco climbed onto the bed. The  
room was comfortably warm from the fire, so he didn't bother with the blankets. Lying  
back against the pillows, he marveled at how soft the bed was.  
  
"Close your eyes."  
  
The soft voice beside Draco startled him. He looked over at the glittering shamrock  
orbs that were staring back at him, confused by the emotions that were currently  
clouding them. Shrugging it off, Draco obeyed, closing his eyes and engulfing himself  
in darkness.  
  
He lie there for what seemed like forever. No sleep was coming to Draco tonight.   
But still he kept his eyes closed, just in case he should be so lucky.  
  
Sighing inwardly, Draco almost laughed out loud. Did he honestly think that he  
might have been able to sleep tonight? It was absurd, really.  
  
He yawned. No, he would be awake the rest of his life, driven mad from the energy  
shortage, no doubt. He yawned again, his body feeling weighted. Why did bad things  
always happen to him? All he wanted was to not feel like death, even if it were only... a  
few hours... Then he'd be satisfied...  
  
As a warm hand wrapped softly around his, a tiny smile crept onto Draco's lips.   
Within minutes, he was snoring quietly.  
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Harry watched as Draco's breathing evened out, chest rising and falling slowly.   
Good. Sleep was much-needed for the Slytherin. Taking his hand away from the  
blonde's, Harry settled back into the armchair. He was happy that the other boy could  
finally get some proper rest.  
  
Feeling his own eyelids start to droop, Harry tried to force them open to no avail.   
He wasn't tired, really. He didn't want to sleep, but he was already halfway gone, and  
he soon joined Draco in his slumber.  
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Jumping, Draco almost fell out of the bed. His now open eyes landed on Harry.   
The ebony-haired teen's head rested on the gold coverlet, and he was thrashing about,  
muttering in his sleep.  
  
Draco wasn't quite sure what to do. It seemed that Harry was having a nightmare,  
and a rather intense one at that. He leaned over, gently nudging Harry's shoulder. It  
had no effect on the sleeping teen, so Draco shook him a bit harder. "Hey, wake up,"  
he said quietly, but his words also didn't work. Trying again, Draco shook the boy once more.  
  
"No! Cedric!" Harry cried out as he bolted upright in the chair. His eyes, pale and  
glassy, bli blindly at Draco, his face wet from tears, sweat-drenched hair plastered  
to his forehead.  
  
"Potter, are you all right?" Draco had never seen the Boy Wonder like this, so  
rattled by a simple nightmare. It was disturbing, to say the least.  
  
Eyes coming into focus, Harry asked uncertainly. "Malfoy? What happened?"  
  
"I-I think you were having a nightmare. You were mumbling and kicking about, and  
you said..." Draco trailed off as he watched the color drain from Harry's already pale  
face. He had said Cedric's name. That must have meant he was having a nightmare about...  
  
Harry's eyes were wide as realization crossed Draco's face. The other boy knew!   
Harry wasn't ready to share his secrets, not yet. They were still too real, too vivid...   
He had to get out of there.  
  
"Hey, wait," Draco called out as Harry suddenly jumped up and bolted to the door.  
  
Hand on the doorknob, Harry paused, not turning around. He probably should give  
Malfoy some kind of explanation, but he didn't have the energy right now. "I can't. Not  
now. I... can't." And then he was gone.  
  
Draco sighed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern. Must have been some  
nightmare to have him bolt like that. The way he was struggling in his sleep, and the  
haunted look in his eyes after he had woken up... Draco shivered.  
  
Well, nothing could be done about it until the morning, so he might as well go back  
to his dorm.  
  
In all of the excitement, Draco failed to remember that he had gotten a few precious  
hours of sleep.  
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Next chapter is fluffy! And my fave, too. I can't wait to post it! Please review! Reviews are highly motivational. You can tell because I've never posted chapters this fast before, and I've definitely never written 45 pages in such a short time. But just leave me a note and tell me how I'm doing. It would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading! 


	6. Revelations

I'm sorry for the wait, guys! I was gonna post on Friday, but then I figured that if you were like me, you were dedicating Friday to watching the CoS over and over again. And then this weekend I was studying for yet another Cognitive test... But here it is, chapter 6! I really hope you like this one because it's my fave. So, read on and enjoy!  
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Insomnia  
Chapter 6: Revelations  
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Things did not go as expected the next morning, though. Harry wasn't at  
breakfast, as Draco soon found out. In Potions, the Gryffindor entered the room staring  
at the floor and looked straight ahead through the entire class. Afterwards, when Draco  
tried to catch up with him, he had disappeared. He didn't show up for lunch or dinner,  
either.  
  
Even an idiot could tell when he was being avoided, and Draco was no idiot.   
Obviously these deeply embedded nightmares were affecting Potter more than he had  
thought. Otherwise there would have been no reason for the grand disappearing act.   
So, Draco took it upon himself to help.  
  
How should he go about this, thought? Draco had less than no experience in the  
helping department. His Slytherin housemates rarely if ever showed signs of needing  
assistance. Even if they did, Draco wouldn't even know where to begin.  
  
This left him wondering why anyone should harbor such pain, such fear. Draco  
knew this from personal experience, which was all the more reason why the Golden  
Boy should not be going through what he was going through, especially alone. Harry  
was too pure, too... special.  
  
Mind firmly set, Draco left the Great Hall, determined to find Harry. As luck would  
have it, he stumbled upon Ron and Hermione having a conversation about none other  
than the remaining member of their trio.  
  
"Don't worry, Hermione. Harry's in the kitchen now, no doubt eating something  
fantastic that Dobby prepared for him," Ron was saying, trying to calm the girl's frayed  
nerves.  
  
That was all Draco needed to hear. Slipping past the two unnoticed, he quickly  
jogged away from the throng of students. He didn't stop until he was standing in front  
of an all too familiar painting.  
  
Tickling the green pear, it gave out a squeak of laughter before turning into a  
handle. Making sure no one was looking, Draco entered the large kitchen.  
  
He barely closed the door behind him when he was approached by a house-elf.   
Draco spotted Harry sitting alone in one of the corners of the kitchen, unaware of the  
Slytherin's presence. Requesting two mugs of tea, Draco was happily obliged and was  
soon crossing the kitchen to the other boy.  
  
When a steaming mug had been set on the table in front of him, Harry finally  
looked up. "Malfoy? How did you--how did you find me? And how did you get in  
here?" he stuttered eloquently.  
  
Sitting across from him, Draco answered truthfully, "Blind luck. And I used to  
sneak in here all the time for food after skipping meals." When Harry looked at him  
questioningly, Draco just shrugged. "It happens when you turn your back against the  
Dark Lord. People who were brainwashed don't want to associate with you.   
Fortunately for me, I wasn't the only one who decided to 'forsake his duty,' as it was so  
wonderfully put. Apparently, Dumbledore did something right to get almost an entire  
year of Slytherins to go against their parents and their honor."  
  
"But everyone seems like they're getting along now?"  
  
Draco gave a hollow laugh. "That's because the former Death Eaters in training  
didn't want to be associated with the side of Evil after Voldemort's defeat." He didn't fail  
to notice how Harry's left eye twitched at Voldemort's name, but he didn't say anything.   
Instead, he changed the subject to the previous night. "Potter, what's going on?"  
  
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, even though he knew exactly what Draco  
meant. It was not something he wanted to talk about, but he figured he owed it to the  
other boy. After all, Harry had made him relive the scene with his parents leaving,  
which Harry knew must have been hard enough as it was.  
  
"You know what I mean." Draco held his gaze, not backing down.  
  
Harry sighed. "All right. I'll talk. But not here." He stood, thanking Dobby and the  
other house-elves on the way out. In silence, he and Draco climbed set after set of  
stairs, continuing on down the long, deserted hallway until they reached Godric  
Gryffindor's bedroom. Harry figured it was a good place to talk without interruption  
since no one knew it was there.  
  
Lighting a fire with a flick of his wand, Harry took a seat on the carpet in front of it.   
He watched the flames dance, their orange hues reflected in his tired eyes.  
  
After a slight hesitation, Draco sat down beside Harry on the carpet. He didn't say  
anything. It wasn't his part to prod any more. Now it was up to Harry.  
  
They sat in silence for what seemed like hours but in reality was mere minutes.   
Harry knew he should start talking, but it was difficult getting his mouth to form the  
words. But, as he was positive it was with the blonde, the only way to get through it  
was to dive right in.  
  
"I didn't ask for any of this," Harry began, almost startling Draco as the silence was  
broken. "This so-called fame, all of the attention, I don't deserve or want it. Why  
should I be famous because the wizard who killed my parents, who killed countless  
other wizards, couldn't kill me?" Harry knew he was asking a rhetorical question if  
there ever was one. He didn't except a reply, nor did he want one. He was, however,  
slightly comforted by the encouraging look Draco was giving him.  
  
"I didn't want to be the hero. In fact, I find it downright laughable that the fate of the  
wizarding world was left in the hands of a teen, a mere child! Didn't they know it was  
hard enough to deal with the monster that killed my parents, but to face him and death  
year after year? I'm surprised I survived!" Harry's voice, which had been heavily laced  
with bitterness, was now on the verge of hysteria.  
  
Draco couldn't help but agree with the boy sitting beside him. How *had* he  
survived? Draco thought his own life had been torturous, but Harry's situation was  
worse one-hundredfold. Draco had had enough trouble facing the Dark Lord with his  
father and other Death Eaters present, but to face him alone? Draco struggled to keep  
a grimace from sneaking up onto his face.  
  
"You're right," Draco answered softly. "You shouldn't have had to deal with  
everything by yourself. It really was too much to ask." He sighed. "I suppose fear  
makes people crazy. But they weren't crazy for putting their faith in you. You may feel  
it, but I'm not surprised you survived." By this time, Draco's head was down, not  
wanting to meet Harry's inevitably shocked gaze. He never was one to pay  
compliments, especially not to a Gryffindor, and especially not to Harry, but it needed  
to be said. It was about time someone said it, and Harry definitely needed to hear it.  
  
Harry didn't even know how to reply. Not once had anyone said that to him. He  
had been apologized to so many times that the words held no real meaning, but this  
was the first time that he actually felt understood. He didn't want to be thanked or  
apologized to, and Draco saw that. He saw what everyone else couldn't see, that Harry  
was nothing but a boy who had had to exceed the expectations laid out before him.  
  
And in the startling revelation, Harry realized just what those words meant to him.   
Those words, spoken by his enemy that was an enemy no longer, meant more to him  
than everything everyone else had said combined. This gave Harry the strength he  
needed to continue talking.  
  
"Every night," he began slowly, "I have nightmares. Not just regular nightmares of  
monsters under the bed, but of death, and blood, and people I knew and saw on a  
regular basis. And I saw Voldemort. I saw him kill these people--" Harry paused for a  
moment as he choked down a sob and tried to steady his voice.  
  
"Every night, it's the same thing, like a film stuck on continuous play. I can tell  
you exact details about everyone's deaths that I witnessed, and I don't want to. I want  
to remember their lives, not their deaths." By this time, the tears that Harry tried so  
desperately to blink away now cascaded freely down his cheeks, the watery trails  
glowing in the firelight.  
  
"So many years of death and destruction, and it's finally over. All of those people,  
wizard and Muggle alike... I thought it was all my fault."  
  
At this, Draco's head snapped up to meet the saddened green orbs now staring at  
his face intently. Harry had felt responsible for all of those killed at the hands of  
Voldemort and the Death Eaters? That would explained who he had shouted 'Cedric'  
after his nightmare earlier. But still, the guilt that he felt was absurd! And Draco  
intended to tell him that.  
  
"You did not kill those people. They were not cursed by your wand, but by  
Voldemort's. It shouldn't have happened, but it did. Look at it this way. You saved  
countless other lives, and that is not something to forget. The rest of it is. All of the  
nightmares, all the blood, especially that bastard's hideous face; it is. Just forget it all.   
It's not your fault." Draco's words were hard, sharp. They had to be in order to  
penetrate through the escalating depression the other boy was currently swimming in.   
It was about time Harry started thinking about himself and not all the other lives that  
hung in the balance. He deserved to live, too. After all, it was in his title.  
  
Harry took each word as a slap in the face. Just forget it? Forget all the people  
that died? His heart was pained just thinking about it.  
  
But no, that's not what Draco was saying. He was telling Harry what the boy had  
just stated himself, that he should remember their lives and not their deaths. It wasn't  
his fault!  
  
And this was perhaps the largest slap of reality out of everything. Those people  
weren't the only ones that had died at Voldemort's hands. Harry had also followed, in a  
way. He had been burdened with such a responsibility and had felt guilty when  
Voldemort went on his massive killing spree.  
  
But now, he heard the words Draco was saying. He actually heard them. And  
nothing had sounded so good.  
  
Hands covering his face, Harry burst into tears.  
  
Draco panicked. Harry was crying! What was he supposed to do? He didn't have  
experience with these things. But he had to do something. "Hey, I'm sorry," he said  
quickly. "I didn't mean to be so harsh." His words had no effect on the crying boy, so  
he tried again to stop the sobs.  
  
Scooting over so that he was right next to Harry, Draco ever so slowly put an arm  
around his shoulders. Much to his surprise, Harry turned and buried his face in Draco's  
shoulder.  
  
What to do, what to do... Draco had no idea what to do, so he just went on  
instinct. Reaching up, his other hand went to the back of Harry's neck, rubbing the soft  
skin in what he hoped was a soothing manner.  
  
Apparently it was working because within minutes, the boy's sobs had quieted until  
they had all but disappeared. Harry pulled away from Draco just enough to meet his gaze.  
  
Uh oh, here it comes. Draco braced himself for the backlash. He almost fell over  
backwards at the words that were spoken next.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"You're not mad?" Draco tried feverishly to process this.  
  
Harry shook his head slightly. "It was exactly what I needed to hear. So thank  
you." He took a deep breath before closing his eyes.  
  
What was he doing? Was he going to break down again? Draco didn't realize  
what was happening until a pair of foreign lips were upon his own. Disbelieving gray  
eyes looked down at the pair of long black lashes resting against pale, tear-streaked  
skin before also closing.  
  
Harry's heart skipped a beat as he felt the tentative kiss being returned. It had  
taken every ounce of courage for him to do what he did, and the relief of not being  
pushed away swept over him like a warm blanket.  
  
Draco sank deeper and deeper into the kiss. He marveled at the softness of  
Harry's lips brushing against his, of how perfectly they moulded to his own, of the  
strong, lithe arms that now encircled his own body in a vise-like grip.  
  
Cold and hot, hard and soft, Harry had never felt so many sensations running  
through him at once. Warm, nimble fingers started a thorough exploration of every inch  
of Draco's back. He wanted to memorize every detail of this moment so he could  
replay it in his mind over and over again.  
  
Reluctantly, Draco pressed one last lingering kiss against Harry's pink, swollen lips  
before burying his face in the crook of the other boy's neck. His arms were still latched  
loosely around Harry's waist.  
  
Sighing, Harry suppressed a shudder as a warm puff of air blew against the tender  
skin of his neck. Closing his eyes, he gently tilted his chin to rest on Draco's head,  
one hand buried in the silky blonde locks while the other traced abstract shapes on the  
blonde's back.  
  
Neither spoke nor moved. They just sat there in each other's embrace, warmed by  
the thought of not being alone.  
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Yay for fluff! I hope you weren't disappointed with that... I wanted to keep things short and sweet. Next chapter will have some more fluffy moments, along with some humorous ones as well. Also, the next chapter will be the last chapter. Hopefully it won't take too long to get it typed up so I can post it really soon. Please review! I love and appreciate feedback! 


	7. Never Let Go

::Dun dun dun:: Last chapter, peeps! Already, I know... It's so sad to see fics end... But it's a necessary evil, I'm afraid. This chapter is the longest one yet... I'm going out with a bang, I tell ya! I was opting for both humor and cuteness in this chapter, so hopefully I pulled it off. Well, I'll let you judge for yourself. Read on and enjoy!  
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Insomnia  
Chapter 7: Never Let Go  
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Groaning, Draco's eyes fluttered open slowly. He blinked, trying to focus the  
blurring objects that swam in his field of vision. Damn sleep was still in his eyes.  
  
Sleep...  
  
He had slept! This woke Draco up, snapping him out of his grogginess. It was an  
amazing feeling, to be awakened from the sleep that he had not known for so long...   
Speaking of which, what woke him up? Where was that snoring coming from if he was  
awake?  
  
For his second shock in thirty seconds, Draco pulled himself into a full sitting  
position to find that he was not alone. Not only was he not alone, but he was with  
Harry Potter! Then he remembered what had happened earlier. He had kissed Harry!   
No, Harry had kissed *him*. Funny thing was, Draco didn't mind, not in the least.  
  
He had known for a while that his hatred for Harry had disappeared, but he never  
realized his growing attraction to the Boy Wonder. Draco chuckled because he hadn't  
noticed this sooner.  
  
He vaguely remembered back in their fifth year. Harry had really given Draco  
something to tease him about when the Gryffindor finally realized that he was indeed a  
wizard and could magically repair his own vision. So Harry did so and finally rid himself  
of those glasses that always seemed to get in the way, revealing to the world the most  
unnaturally mesmerizing shamrock-hued eyes. Studying the sleeping figure beside  
him, Draco longed to see those eyes.  
  
As if the gods themselves heard, there was a stir from the sleeping boy. His  
slouched over form slowly straightened as hands stretched high above his head.   
Sleepy, unfocused eyes turned Draco's way before widening just slightly, just for a  
minute. He smiled. "Morning. Sleep well?"  
  
Draco could feel the corners of his mouth tugging upward. "Yes. Did you?" he  
asked meaningfully, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.  
  
"Oh, I slept wonderfully," Harry answered as he stifled a yawn with the back of his  
hand. "Maybe it was because I had such a soft pillow." Last night he had fallen asleep  
against Draco, the blonde's strong, steady heartbeat lulling him into blissful slumber.  
  
"Maybe." Draco's hand traveled lazily down Harry's arm until he reached his wrist.   
He leaned over and glanced at Harry's watch. "We have two hours until Potions, which  
means another hour before anyone starts to wake up."  
  
"I guess we should get going so people don't get suspicious." Harry could hear the  
reluctance in his own voice as he stood, stretching his legs.  
  
Following suit, Draco led the way out of the room and into the dust-covered  
hallway. They walked close together, every once in a while hands brushing or  
shoulders bumping against one another's. It was intentional on both parts, of course.  
  
Harry kept stealing furtive glances at Draco, studying the pale blonde who seemed  
lost in thought. Less than twenty-four hours ago the two had been rivals, enemies of  
the worst kind, unable to stand each other's company. But now, now they were... what?  
  
What exactly were they? Harry didn't know. Having been in exactly no  
relationships in all of his sixteen years, he had no clue where to go from here.  
  
What if last night was just a one-time thing? What if everything would go back to  
the way it was, with the separation of Houses and exchanges of cutting remarks?   
What happened to the time they spent together?  
  
At that moment, Draco turned to Harry and smiled, his first true smile at the other  
boy. With that one gesture, all of Harry's fears began to melt away.  
  
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they faced each other nervously.   
Draco wrung his hands in front of him, looking everywhere but at Harry's face. Why  
was he so nervous? Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he had never been  
in this situation before. Despite his reputation around the school, Draco had only gone  
so far as a few heavy snogging sessions, and never with anyone that he had any real  
feelings for. He made no effort to know them or they him, and he didn't care. But now,  
he cared. He wanted to know Harry, and he wanted Harry to care, too.  
  
Looking Harry straight in the eye, Draco asked, "Do you want to go down to my  
common room? To talk," he added hastily to avoid any implications.  
  
With a slight nod, Harry took Draco's outstretched hand and allowed himself to be  
led down to the dungeons until they were standing in front of the serpent painting. If  
snakes could glare, Harry knew one would be aimed at him.  
  
Draco said the password. As the painting slowly creaked open, the snake hissed,  
"Damned boy, letting unworthy people in Slytherin House."  
  
Oh, Harry loved when someone didn't know who he was or about his abilities.   
Leaning in close to the painting, he hissed back to the snake, "I'm unworthy? Who's  
the one hanging just outside the door?" He almost laughed as the serpent slithered off  
in a huff.  
  
Turning back, Draco asked, "Change your mind?"  
  
"Never." Harry followed Draco into the Slytherin common room. It looked exactly  
the same, except now it felt almost... inviting. Maybe that was because he had  
actually been invited in.  
  
"I'm going to run upstairs to make sure everyone is still asleep. They might be a  
bit... surprised to come downstairs and see Harry Potter in the heart of Slytherin  
territory," Draco explained as he started up the stairs. "Make yourself comfortable."  
  
"Don't be long," Harry called out as he took the offered seat on the plush forest  
green couch.  
  
Draco shot him a grin over his shoulder before disappearing into the dorms.  
  
Relaxing into the couch, Harry sighed. He never thought he'd live to see the day  
when he would be invited into the Slytherin common room. Hopefully this wouldn't be  
the last time he would be in the room. If he had anything to do with it, it wouldn't be.   
Closing his eyes, Harry rested his feet on the coffee table.  
  
Because his eyes were closed and the other person had entered so quietly, Harry  
didn't know anything was amiss until the table was kicked out from under his feet.  
  
"Potter!" Snape growled as the boy quickly stumbled to his feet. He had 'guilt'  
written all over his face. No doubt he could be expelled for breaking into another  
House's dorms. Oh, he was going to have so much fun watching the boy scrape for  
excuses and beg him for mercy on his pathetic soul. "How did you get into Slytherin  
House? Who did you steal the password from?"  
  
"No one, Professor. I was invited in," Harry answered coolly, not breaking eye contact.  
  
"Rubbish!" Snape snapped, growing more irate with Harry's calm attitude. "I know  
for a fact that Slytherins do not invite other House... dwellers into their common room!"   
Insolent boy; he was going to try and get out of trouble by lying directly to a professor's  
face? Now he would definitely be expelled!  
  
Draco came clambering down the stairs. "Everyone is still--oh, no," he finished as  
his eyes landed on his House leader. Snape had this hungry look in his eyes, like he  
was about to be serving roasted Gryffindor on a stick. "Professor, what are you doing here?"  
  
"Looking for you, actually," Snape answered matter-of-factly. "When you  
disappeared before dinner last night, some of your Housemates were concerned, so I  
was checking into your whereabouts, to which I was unsuccessful. But here you are.   
And just in time, too." He rubbed his hands together wickedly. "It seems Mr. Potter  
here has invaded our common room, and I was just about to inform him about this  
being grounds for expulsion."  
  
"Professor Snape, wait--" Draco started but was cut off.  
  
"Don't worry. I'll make sure Potter gets what he deserves." Snape grabbed Harry's  
arm and started to pull him towards the door.  
  
"Professor, wait! I invited him here!"  
  
Snape froze in midstep at these words, giving Harry the opportunity to yank his  
arm out of Snape's grasp and step back several feet until he was next to Draco.  
  
At the befuddled expression on Snape's face, Harry had a difficult time keeping  
from laughing. He could only imagine the thoughts running through the Potions  
professor's head.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, I wasn't aware that you were starting a hopeless Gryffindor outreach  
program," Snape replied slowly, turning his piercing eyes to Draco, silently demanding  
an explanation for such ludicrousy.  
  
Daring a quick glance at Harry, Draco was met with determined green eyes. He  
turned back to their professor, taking a deep breath. "Professor Snape, I invited Harry  
down here because... we're in a relationship."  
  
He never thought it would be possible to shock Snape, but apparently he was  
wrong. Snape's eyes widened as he bellowed, "Three hundred points from Slytherin!"   
He promptly collapsed on the floor in a dead faint.  
  
Both boys stared down at Snape in shock and amusement. While worried, they  
couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction to their news.  
  
"I wasn't expecting that," Draco said, wide-eyed.  
  
"Me neither," Harry agreed, equally stupored.  
  
"What do you suppose we should do with him?"  
  
"Take him to Madam Pomfrey. But first..." Harry pulled the blonde over to him and  
kissed him deeply, their mouths fusing together perfectly. Just as quickly, Harry pulled  
away, only to face a pouting Draco.  
  
"What was that for?" Draco panted, already missing the warmth from the other  
boy's lips.  
  
"For losing points, even if it wasn't justified. For telling Snape. And, you called me  
Harry." He grinned, one arm wrapping snugly around Draco's waist. "I guess it's off to  
Madam Pomfrey's, then?"  
  
"Looks like it." Taking out his wand, Draco cast a levitating charm on Snape.   
Then he and Harry left the room hand in hand, with the unconscious body of Snape  
floating absently behind them.  
.  
.  
.  
Clutching the back of his head with a low moan, Snape made his way slowly to his  
Potions classroom. He had been rudely awoken by Poppy's incessant fretting over  
him. Apparently he had passed out for some unknown reason and was brought to the  
infirmary by Draco. At least, that was the story Snape had received from Poppy. He  
had the strangest feeling that he was missing something.  
  
While lying unconscious in the infirmary, he had had the weirdest hallucination.   
Potter had been in the Slytherin common room, sitting all smug and proper. But before  
Snape could have the pleasure of getting him expelled, Draco had burst in and  
announced that he and Potter were in a relationship, of all things!  
  
Shuddering, he made his way into the classroom, for the first time in all of his  
years of teaching arriving a couple of minutes early. The sixth-year Gryffindor and  
Slytherin students didn't know what to think of this, so they all started whispering  
amongst themselves furiously.  
  
Ignoring them, Snape sat down at his desk, gingerly bringing a hand to the back of  
his head. Damn, he had a pounding headache. Just how hard did he smack his head,  
anyway?  
  
Oh well, no time to linger on the growing waves of dizziness that were beginning to  
wash over him. He had a class to teach. And terrify.  
  
Standing on wobbly legs, he used the desk as support to move his wavering form  
to the board. Before he could even address the class however, two students strolled in  
late. Or, right on time.  
  
Eyes widening to an impossibly large size, Snape's expression turned to  
horrorstruck before he screamed, "It wasn't a nightmare!" and fainted once again.  
  
Draco looked over at Harry, squeezing his hand lightly. "Does this mean Potions  
is canceled?" he asked with a wicked grin.  
.  
.  
.  
There was utter chaos after that. Professor Dumbledore had been fetched, and he  
instructed Ron and Hermione to take Snape to Madam Pomfrey. Then he canceled  
their Potions lesson, giving everyone a free period.  
  
As everyone shuffled out of the classroom, Dumbledore pulled Harry aside. When  
all of the other students were gone, he asked Harry pleasantly, "So, Harry, how are you  
doing?"  
  
"Fine, Professor Dumbledore," Harry answered slowly, a bit confused by the simple  
question. Was he supposed to be traumatized because Snape had screamed like a  
little girl before fainting for the second time in two hours? No, Dumbledore knew of  
Harry's dislike for the Potions master. He looked curiously at the headmaster, whose  
eyes were twinkling in that way that meant he was about to reveal something.  
  
"And young Mr. Malfoy? How is he doing?"  
  
Oh. Oh! He knew! Harry mentally smacked himself. Of course Dumbledore  
would know about their relationship. He knew bloody everything... including the  
problems that had brought the two together in the first place. But if that were the case,  
why didn't he help either of them?  
  
Seeing the unasked question on Harry's face, Dumbledore spoke up. "There was  
nothing I could do." He sighed, the twinkle dimming in his eyes. "I know you had a  
difficult time these past few months, years even. But there was nothing I could have  
said or done to make you feel better, to convince you that what happened was not your  
fault. The best way to prove that was to hear it from someone who was unbiased."  
  
And Harry understood perfectly. If Dumbledore had told him the same things Draco  
had just told him earlier, Harry wouldn't have believed him. But to be told those things  
from someone who had not been with him the entire time and still knew what was  
happening, that had a major impact.  
  
The tiniest of smiles graced Harry's lips. Nodding slightly, he said, "I'm happy  
things worked out this way."  
  
"As am I. Now, I suggest you find Mr. Malfoy before your friends get back from the  
infirmary." There it was again, that twinkle in his eyes.  
  
Nodding, Harry left the classroom in search of Draco. He didn't have to search  
long; Draco was waiting for him just outside the classroom, as were the other sixth  
-year Slytherins and Gryffindors.  
  
"It seems we have an audience," Draco drawled, waving his hand dismissively at  
the crowd of students who were watching the two closely.  
  
"You would think they never saw us act civilly towards one another," Harry  
mocked, his eyes roaming over the incredulous faces. Turning to Draco, he  
admonished, "So I guess we're really going to tell them?"  
  
"Of course we are!" Draco said indignantly, scowling. "Unless you're too ashamed?"  
  
The crowd, while not being able to hear the conversation, did see Draco's face  
contort in his irritation. Both Houses didn't know what to do, so they just watched.  
  
Harry's eyes flashed. "Oh, I'm not ashamed." He grabbed Draco and roughly  
pulled the blonde against him. An inaudible gasp fell from parted lips before it was cut  
off with the fiercest of kisses.  
  
As they slowly parted, Draco grinned slyly. "I think we told them nicely, don't  
you?" At Harry's disbelieving gaze, he only chuckled, shrugging. "It was easier than words."  
  
"Harry!"  
  
Groaning, Harry leaned forward to briefly rest his forehead on Draco's shoulder. For  
some reason, he felt this headache coming on. "Yes, Hermione?" he asked patiently.  
  
Hermione exchanged glances with Ron before turning back to Harry. "It's about  
time!" she exclaimed, beaming at them.  
  
"Huh?" both Harry and Draco stared at her stupidly.  
  
"We could see it for the past two years, mate," Ron piped up, keeping a  
surprisingly straight face. "We knew it would only be a matter of time, but we didn't  
know it'd be *this* much time. Otherwise we would have taken matters into our own  
hands." He snickered.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"He means, we've seen the way you two have been looking at each other for the  
past couple of years," Pansy explained, throwing an arm around each of their  
shoulders. "You wanted him, he wanted you; it seems you two were the only ones that  
didn't know. Well, except for the Hufflepuffs, but that's no surprise." She made a face.  
  
"So you're all right with this?" Draco asked, addressing the entire group.  
  
"Are you kidding? The two hottest guys in school dating each other?" Seamus  
rubbed his hands together eagerly. "Just the thought of--"  
  
"Yes, we're all right with this," Hermione interrupted loudly before Seamus could  
finish his thoughts. "We're very happy for you two."  
  
At those words, Harry smiled softly at her, pulling her into a tight embrace.   
"Thanks, Hermione," he whispered into her hair.  
  
She stepped back, smiling widely.  
  
"Ron," Harry said, holding a hand out.  
  
Staring at the offered hand for a moment, Ron grinned. "Come here, you git!" He  
jumped into Harry's arms, causing Harry to stumble backwards as he tried to support  
Ron's lanky frame.  
  
Both Houses laughed, with the exception of Draco, who was scowling. But  
everyone could see that his lips were twitching as he tried to keep from grinning. "Hey,  
Weasley, give him back," he called to the redhead.  
  
Hopping down from Harry's arms, Ron pulled him back towards the blonde. "Good  
as new," he stated matter-of-factly. To the group, he said, "Come on, show's over.   
Let's give them some time alone." With Hermione's help, they ushered everyone out of  
the hallway, then took their exit.  
  
Taking a step closer to Draco, Harry said nonchalantly, " Well, we have an hour  
before next class."   
  
"Whatever shall we do to pass the time?" Draco inquired, snaking an arm around  
Harry's waist and holding the teen tightly against his side.  
  
"Oh, I think I have a few suggestions," Harry grinned wickedly.  
.  
.  
.  
Gasping loudly, Harry sat up. He was in his own bed, breathing rapidly. It must  
have been midmorning, judging by the light streaming through his window. Had his  
friends let him oversleep?  
  
No, wait, class was canceled. Right after Snape fainted. Then he and Draco...   
Harry's eyes immediately looked to his right, where the blonde had been, but there was  
no one there. Harry was confused. "It wasn't a dream, was it?" he asked, his heart sinking.  
  
"No, Harry, now go back to sleep," Draco said as he walked out of the bathroom.   
He flopped down unceremoniously on the bed, pulling Harry with him. Curling up  
against the Gryffindor, Draco lay his head on Harry's chest, entwining their hands  
together. When Harry had suggested they take a quick nap before class, Draco was  
all for the idea, now that he could sleep again. Even better than that, he got to sleep next to Harry.  
  
Sighing contentedly, Harry closed his eyes, sinking deeper into the comfort of the  
soft body next to him. Oh, life was definitely good at the moment.  
  
"Harry?" Draco's voice broke the silence.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Were you planning on spending the summer with your awful Muggle relatives?"  
  
Harry made a face. If there was one thing he hated most, it would be staying in the  
same house as the Dursleys. "Well, I don't have much choice, Draco."  
  
Draco paused, momentarily forgetting what he was about to say. He was still  
reveling in the sound of his name falling from Harry's lips. Knowing that there would be  
plenty more opportunities like this, he pressed on. "Do you want to spend the summer  
with me?"  
  
With the pads of his fingers, Harry gently raised Draco's chin so that their eyes  
met. "Do you mean it?" he asked softly.  
  
"Well, the manor would be quiet because it'd be just me, and I'm not exactly  
looking forward to being there by myself."  
  
"I'd love to." Leaning over, Harry covered Draco's now smiling lips with his own,  
melting in the warmth of the other boy.  
  
Arms and legs entwining, both boys latched onto each other as if their lives  
depended on it. Feverish kisses swept across hot, pulsing skin as long, determined  
fingers tightened around loose clothing. Neither of them were going to let go first, not  
now, not ever.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
The end! I swear, this fic pretty much wrote itself... I've never had a fic that flowed so easily.. And it was so much fun to write, too! I want to say thank you to everyone who read and reviewed any/all of my chapters... It means the world to me, it really does.  
  
You may be happy to know that I'm currently working on another H/D fic... It's a one-shot, and it's really nothing like this fic at all, but it should be pretty interesting. Anyway, if you want to know when I post this new one up (which should be this weekend), just leave me your e-mail addy and I'll be sure to let you know! 


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